


A Tale of Guardians Lost and Found

by feet_first



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Light Swearing, gun mention, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feet_first/pseuds/feet_first
Summary: After the fall of the Taken King, two Guardians get cocky and stumble into the rise of a new King.Meanwhile, the Vanguard are picking up strange transmissions from the Cabal.Set after the events of Destiny 1, and just before the start of Destiny 2.





	1. Guardian Down

" _ **Nesra!**_ "

His voice boomed across the makeshift battlefield, bouncing across the broken shards of metal and bone that lay scattered across the Hive temple. The gentle blue glow of his eyes were now aflame with rage and grief and bloodlust. His helmet lay tossed aside with a deep crack down the visor from where a Knight's sword hit home. The rest of his armour didn't fare much better; its heavy plates were scuffed and blackened, and some of the smaller ones had been torn off by hungry claws desperate for his Light.

Blue-5 shouldered his rifle; a battered relic of the Golden Age, with its cracked sight and uneven splotches of rust. It was the first rifle he had picked up after his Ghost found him, slumped on a decayed shell of a car outside the Cosmodrome wall. A lot of Guardians liked teasing him for holding onto it, called him sentimental. They even tried offering new ones from Banshee, but this old friend hadn't failed him yet.

He squeezed the trigger and fired at another wave of Thrall. Some screamed as they fell, their worms dropping to the ground with a squeal as the exoskeleton crumbled around them.  
In the background, he could see the Wizard hovering over the body of his teammate, a squirming Ghost held fast in her claws. She was inspecting it in a way that reminded Blue of how the Warlocks in the Tower looked at the Titans or Hunters that invaded their libraries from time to time. Annoyed, maybe a bit offended even, but there was a hint of curiosity. 

Nesra cast him that look too the first time he went to see her; her eyes peeking over the stacks of books in front of her with more piled up in every available space around her. It became a habit for them both for him to sit with her for hours and listen to her newest research assignment or the stories she dug up. There were many different ones in the Warlock library, but his favourites were the tomes on the Golden Age. It was a comfort on the days between missions or the nights when neither could sleep to remember a time when there was peace.

A click from his rifle made his blood run cold and his heart sink.

"Traveller damn it all," he muttered, glancing down to the empty magazine then back up to the fresh wave of Hive heading his way.

"Blue," the voice of his Ghost broke through the screeches, "we can't-- we need to go."

The Wizard met his gaze. He could feel her regarding his fury a moment before, he was sure, her face twisted into a grin.

"This is the _Hive_ , Ghost. We're not leaving her here."

Balling his hands into fists, Blue closed his optics and called on the Void. Nesra had described the cold nothingness as the shadows cast by the Traveller's Light and the space between stars, but he felt it was more like an ancient protector he had fought and died alongside time and time again; a dark ally in the howling night. There was a comfort in the power creeping it's way from the edges of his limbs to his chest, cooling the rage and replacing it with something more. Something that reminded him of the strangely familiar tower he saw in his dreams, and the high walls that protected the city, _his_ city. Out here, though, _he_ was the wall against which the Darkness breaks.

The void along his arm formed into a shield as the Thrall closed in, claws flashing, and the Titan leapt to meet them. He slammed into each Hive that dared come between him and his target, carving a path of ash beneath his boots. The Wizard wasn't waiting for him to get any closer though and opened a portal of green fire beneath itself. With the last of his strength, he hurled his shield towards the Wizard. It let out an ear splitting scream as it sank into a portal of green fire; the shield just grazing past its horn and bouncing harmlessly off the wall behind.

He growled a curse as the portal sealed up, leaving no trace of it or the Wizard. He turned his attention to the unmoving Guardian and set out into a jog to close the gap.

"Hey, Nesra, can you hear me?" Blue knelt down next to the Warlock, studying her face. She looked peaceful, but that worried him more. He placed a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. "Nesra? C'mon, Nesra, _open your eyes_." No reaction. "Shit. Ghost?"

His companion materialised and floated over to Nesra, its optic darting over her as it scanned.  
"I'm not detecting any life signs... wait," its shell fluttered nervously, "where's her Ghost?"

Blue looked around, his eyes resting on the spot the Wizard used to be. There wasn't any sign of the Ghost shell.

"The Wizard must've- Look, can you heal her?"

"...You know I can't."

 _That damn Wizard._ Blue pulled her slight form close to his chest plate and rested his head on hers, closing his eyes.

"Blue..."

A pause. "I know."

"Let's bring her home."

Ghost transmatted them back to the ship and Blue hugged Nesra closer as he began to sob quietly. Ghost nestled into the fur collar of his armour and pressed itself into the crook of his neck in silent comfort.

 

There was a debrief when they got back to the Tower. He explained to the Vanguard how he and Nesra had pushed deep into the tunnels of the Dreadnaught, how their cockiness after Oryx's defeat had clouded their judgement, and about the wizard who was uncomfortably similar to Omnigul. The silence left by the fall of the Taken King was filling with whispers of a new heir, and they were getting louder.

 

Blue knew how to bury a fallen Titan. He knew each one that was buried along the wall, which Titan Order they were in, and how they died protecting the city. Each were stories that were passed from Titan to Titan and they were retold often. One day, he would join those stories. 

For now, though, he had a different funeral to deal with. Warlock funerals were something he was at a loss with so he turned to Ikora for help. He wanted the best for Nesra.

 

It had been a couple days when she came to find him. He was where she thought he'd be: in the Warlock library where Nesra always sat, staring at the last book to be left there. It was a tome exploring the Hive and their culture, or what was known about it. It was mostly written by Toland before he disappeared, and now Ikora added to it. Her most recent entries were of Oryx and his Taken. 

He looked up as though he was snapped out of deep thought - a concept that, in better times, Ikora would comment on - and sat up straighter.

"At ease," she said softly, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Blue knew she was joking, but he still had to bite back a 'yes ma'am' in response. Instead, he forced his shoulders to relax a little and shifted in his seat.

Ikora continued, "I'd like to say it's been a long time since I've had to arrange a funeral, that I'd almost forgotten how. We both know that isn't true."

"I- I'm sorry we- that I-" he stopped. Under her gaze, it was hard to find the right words. He took a breath, long and shaky. "I'm sorry I came back alone."

"We have lost too many in this long war, there's no denying that. We have to do better, _be_ better." 

"Ikora-"

She held up a hand to cut him off.  
"I know Zavala already lectured you. That's not why I'm here." she softened her tone, "Everything's ready, if you would like to say your goodbyes."

He took a last look at the tome, still open and untouched, and gave a nod before following her out.


	2. Dawn Always Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue-5 is still grieving but he's not alone and the wound left by the loss of his close friend is slowly healing.
> 
> Meanwhile, transmissions from the Cabal are getting closer to home and the Vanguard are concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience for this chapter. It was a difficult one to write (also Ghost Fragments are harder than I thought).
> 
> Anyway. Hope you enjoy!

**TYPE: Ghost Audio Feed**

**DESCRIPTION: Guardian Resurrection**

**PARTIES: Three [3]. One [1] Ghost, active [u.1]; One [1] Exo, Guardian-Type [u.2]; One [1] Eliksni Captain, House [[UNKNOWN]] [u.3]**

**//AUDIO UNAVAILABLE//  
//TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS...//**

[audible gasp]

[u.1:01] Hey, easy. Easy. Take it slow.

[sounds of heavy breathing, distress]

[u.1:02] It's okay. It's okay now. Deep breaths.

[unintelligible mumbles]

[u.1:03] I know. It's a lot to take in. I'm your Ghost. You're back.

[u.2:01] Back? Back from... There was a tower. I saw... a tower.

[u.1:04] The Tower?

[silence]

[u.2:02] I can't... Why can't I... What's my name?

[u.1:05] Guardian, I-

[Eliksni war cries, close]

[u.2:03] What was that?

[u.1:06] We have to go. Now. That knife isn't- Wait.

[sounds of leaves rustling]

[u.1:07] Guardian, above-!

[branches breaking]

[dull thud]

[u.3:01] [[REQUEST TRANSLATION]]

[u.2:04] Ghost? What is...?

[Eliksni--query laugh?]

[sounds of [Eliksni] Shock Blades]

[u.2:05] Ghost?!

[u.3:02] [[REQUEST TRANSLATION]]

[sounds of combat]

[combat]

[combat]

[pause]

[ether screaming]

[silence]

[heavy breathing]

[u.02:06] Is it... Is it dead?

[u.1:08] Guardian, that was... I-I think it is... Are you...?

[u.02:07] Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. But what...?

[u.1:09] It's a Fallen. A Captain. But, well, I don't recognise this House. Accessing Vanguard records.

[beat]

[u.1:10] That's strange. He's been preying on new Guardians across the Cosmodrome for weeks, and he was meant to be in the House of Devils - or what's left, I guess - but this symbol is... different. And why is he here? In the EDZ?

[pause]

[u.2:10] What? What's wrong?

[u.1:11] No, it's... There was a bounty on his head, too. Name is, or was, Vraksis.

[silence]

[u.1.12] Guardian? Why do you have that look?

[silence]

[silence]

* * *

It was winter and snow had settled itself over the Cosmodrome. Civilians and Guardians alike were rushing around in excitement, wrapped up in thick coats and woollen scarves. Blue-5 watched the bustle, huddled in the shelter of the noodle stand with a hot bowl of ramen hugged close to his chest. Although he wasn't sure he felt the cold the same way as non-Exos, his sensors picked up on the dip in temperature and it wasn't a pleasant sensation. Cayde-6 was right, though. The spicy food was a welcome contrast. Ever since the Hunter's enthusiastic recommendation, he would warm up this way before joining the crowds and weaving his way between market stalls, looking for the perfect gifts and admiring the decorations. This year, though, he couldn't find the motivation, nor the energy, to celebrate.

A waypoint abruptly pinged up in his peripheral, and he glanced over to see it hovering over the doorway that lead back to the main hub of the Tower, blinking gently yet persistently.

Blue gave a sigh as he placed the bowl back on the counter, but forced a smile - the lights at the back of his throat glowing with the same gentle blue of his eyes in an Exo equivalent - to the owner as he set down some glimmer. "Thanks. Again."

"Have a good day, Guardian." She returned the smile, weary but warm, and began to clear up. "Oh, and Happy Dawning!"

"Yeah... You too."

On the way, he took in the festival decorations. Glowing lanterns with snowflake carvings were carefully placed around the Tower and long strings of smaller lights were stretched between any high points, including the vaults; even the vendors put little touches to their stalls here or there, with softly flickering candles and small wrapped presents with neatly tied bows. Seeing all of the ornaments stung; a reminder it would be quiet for him with this year.

When he entered the hub, he saw the waypoint flicker over to above Banshee-44's workspace and he glanced to his Ghost, who was hovering by his shoulder and looking equally baffled.

"Guardian," Banshee greeted them. as they approached. "Order came in."

"Oh, but-" his Ghost chimed in. "Well, we didn't order anything."

Banshee ignored the little machine and grabbed a box off of his cluttered workbench and, after a brief inspection, passed it over to Blue. The Titan looked it over curiously before setting the box down to open it; inside, among generous padding, was a sidearm. Seeing it only added to his confusion and he carefully reached in to pick it up, turning it over in his hand.

Blue stared down at the gun, his optics taking in every detail. It was a nice sidearm, with its moulded grip that sat surprisingly comfortably and its carefully polished barrel, which was white, with a streak of bright blue, and black detail that framed the excellent craftsmanship. He looked back up to the gunsmith, who was watching him expectantly. Blue had always liked the old Exo, and he definitely didn't want to be rude, but his auto rifle still worked fine. Sure, it was in worse shape but that was to be expected with its age, and it had always gotten him home, despite the rust. 

Him. But not her.

"Guardian?" Banshee-44 broke through with a hint of worry in his tone. Blue wasn't sure how long he was lost in his own thoughts; long enough to get the gunsmith's attention, he supposed.

"Sorry, I-" The Titan shook his head to try dislodge any remnant memories and went to hand the gun back. Banshee didn't take it, just kept watching him. "I, uh, have a gun already. I don't need another."

"This one's better." 

"I've never used sidearms before," That wasn't true. He'd used one once, when he took a bet in the Hunter bar below the hanger. He'd lost a lot of glimmer that night. "Look, I wouldn't be any good with it."

"You can learn. You can always learn."

"They aren't-"

"Traveler's Chosen."

The resets had taken their toll on the old Exo and he was known to get lost in his own fragmented memories; he would often mention names no one knew, or continue conversations from who knows how long ago. Banshee must have seen how Blue was looking at him - a mix of concern and confusion - because he continued.

"That's its name. Traveler's Chosen."

"Right, but-"

"Not one of mine." Banshee cut in again before he could finish and gestured behind Blue, towards the steps that lead to the Vanguard hall. "The Commander commissioned it. Had it figured out. All the details."

"So," he followed his gaze, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "he told you to give me this?"

"Fresh starts, Guardian. We all need 'em."

 

He went to see Zavala after Banshee had decided the conversation was over, turning back to his workbench to continue repairing a pulse rifle. Blue wasn't sure what had happened to it, but it looked like it had been burned; the edges were singed and there were more severe burn marks along the outer casing. He didn't give it much thought, figured it was one of the Guardians who used Solar Light as it was a fairly common occurrence to have some equipment burnt by a stray Solar grenade or, in the Crucible's case, a deliberate one.

Cayde-6 and Ikora were elsewhere, but Zavala was where he always was. It was rare to find him not working on something whenever Blue stopped by.

This time, he was studying a map - leaning over it with his hands on either side, eyes darting from location to location - but Blue couldn't make out where exactly, not from the distance. Zavala straightened when he saw him approach, as carefully expressionless as always, with his Ghost hovering by his shoulder; it wasn't as good at hiding its emotions as its optic tilted in curiosity.

"Guardian," he clasped his arms behind his back. "What do you need?"

Blue gestured to his hip. The sidearm was in the holster he had to wear with his civilian clothes; his armour didn't need one, something about magnetic holsters, but he wasn't going to wear his armour in his downtime.

"Can I ask why I got this, sir?"

"Of course." He gave a nod. "I think it's time I reassign you. That gun is a gift, to help you get back into your duties."

"You're-? I'm not sure I'm ready."

"I know losing a member of your fireteam is hard. Before Cayde-" He hesitated. "Perhaps that isn't my place. You and Nesra were close, and that pain is all too familiar. But to let it win is to surrender to the Darkness itself."

"Sir?"

"Remember as Titans, we carry the dream of the city, of its people. They all count on our strength." His tone softened. "I understand your grief. You can turn it against our enemies and make it a powerful weapon."

"How do I do that?"

"You get back into the fight." Zavala gestured to the map, and Blue could finally see it was the Cosmodrome. "Our scouts have picked up strange transmissions, from the Cabal. They rarely venture so close to the city, and we need to know why."

Blue took a breath, and nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll try."

"Good. I'll send the details to your Ghost," He gestured behind Blue, towards the entrance to the Vanguard hall. "but it can wait until after the festival. You should enjoy it, Guardian."

Blue went to go, but hesitated, glancing back to Zavala who was still watching him, his Ghost blinking its optic as it flickered between them.

"Aren't you coming, Commander?"

Blue could've sworn there was a slight smile but, with the Commander as guarded as always, it was hard to tell. "No. I have work still to do."

The Exo nodded a little reluctantly and left him alone.

 

Blue settled himself on the upper railing overlooking the Tower's hub. Despite Zavala's suggestion, he didn't go straight to the festival; instead, he had spent a few hours getting used to the sidearm and it was evening now, the fading sun making the lanterns glow brighter. Above him, the massive Dawning symbol glittered, marking the occasion, with the Tower banners proudly positioned either side. It seemed bigger this year, and he was sure Ikora would be proud of her work.

The crowd was a mixture of all the members of the Tower, including, he noticed, a sweeper bot fighting a losing battle with the still falling snow. Guardians were dancing in their groups to some old music Master Rahool had dug out of the archives - a gentle tune with chimes that the Guardians' dances seemed far too enthusiastic for - and some of them were even trying to teach a couple civilians, encouraging them to join in. Fireteams were exchanging gifts they'd found in the markets earlier and one or two treated themselves to something from the Eververse store, which Tess seemed to refuse to move too far away from.

He saw the towering figure of Lord Shaxx, though he heard his bellowing laughter long before, with Arcite 99-40 by his side and the Vanguard around him. Cayde and Ikora had finally been successful in getting Zavala to have a break, it seemed, and it was a nice change to see the Commander so relaxed in contrast to his usually tense demeanour.

All of the civilians, no doubt encouraged by Eva, had all chipped in to form the massive feast. There were some tents set up at the edges of the crowd to protect the tables that were lined with all kinds of foods and different coloured glass bottles of wine and spirits, which he saw people coming back and forth from or mingling close to with plates piled high and full cups being clinked together or, in the case of a particular group of Titans, being downed in drinking contests.

"That's a lot of Guardians," his Ghost appeared by his shoulder, optic darting as it took in the scene. "Definitely more than last year."

"Yeah. Guess there's been a lot of new rezzes." Blue went quiet a while, then finally, he spoke; his voice was rough and he refused to take his eyes off the crowd so he didn't catch his Ghost's gaze. "Ghost? I still miss her."

"I know." it replied, gently.

"But less than I did, before. I'm missing her less each day and," he stopped, the words sticking in his throat so he had to force them, "what if, some day, I forget her?"

"Blue..."

"I don't want to but... Y'know, I'll be Blue-6 soon enough and..." he trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

Ghost turned to study its Guardian, who still refused to look its way, and quietly asked, "Was the Dawning her favourite holiday?"

"...No." he began slowly, thinking it over. "It was the Festival of the Lost. I remember the time she tore up an old research paper. Made a Crota mask out of it." he smiled then, softly and sadly. "She rewrote the paper but... I dunno if she kept the mask."

Ghost paused, "Maybe I could remember for you, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Yeah..." Blue finally looked over to his Ghost, "Yeah. Thanks, Little Light."

Ghost would normally bristle at the nickname but right now, it didn't feel any irritation; instead, it settled itself into the crook of Blue's neck and sighed in contentment. They both stayed there - comfortable in each other's company - until the last of the Guardians had drifted off and the hint of sunlight began to creep its way over the horizon.


	3. Vraksis Has No House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Hunter is unexpectantly thrown into the deep end while Blue struggles to get back out into the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins.

"You can't take the name of a Fallen," his Ghost fluttered around him like a hummingbird; an anxious, persistent hummingbird, "You can't."

The Hunter shifted in his bunk and cast a glance to the little machine. "The Vanguard are okay with it."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Well. They didn't say no."

His Ghost narrowed her optic. "You know he killed Guardians."

Vraksis sighed - the purple lights in the back of his throat flickering to convey his exasperation - and rolled over to continue to read his data pad. He had pulled up all the records he could find on the strange tower he saw. The... dream, he supposed, was getting less vivid as the day went on - everything except for the face he saw amongst the army, anyway. He couldn't recall who it was but for some reason, he couldn't get it out of his head and it twisted his insides just thinking about it. So far, he had found only vague reports - a mention of a crypt, Clovis Bray, lost research - but there was still a lot to get through.

"Who knows how many," his Ghost continued to break his concentration, but he pretended like she didn't. "What sort of legacy is that?"

He ignored her, letting that question linger for a few minutes, before he finally broke the silence.

"Y'know," Vraksis began, keeping a suspiciously even tone. "you still need a name."

"Oh, no. No."

The Exo hummed. "I was thinking about it, on the way here."

"No."

"Which d'you like better, 'Dreg' or 'Vandal'?" 

His Ghost clicked and whirred behind him and he could imagine the look of displeasure, but before she could retaliate, a knock made them both look over in surprise. Zavala stood in the doorway of the Guardian barracks with an unreadable expression on his face.

Vraksis half sat up on his elbows and studied the Titan a moment. He'd had a briefing with the Vanguard when he first arrived at the Tower which was mostly general orientation, but from what he understood, Cayde should have been his handler.

"Commander?"

"There has been a lot of talk around the Tower since your arrival," he said, moving his hands behind his back. "There aren't many new Guardians that take down valuable targets immediately after resurrection."

Vraksis glanced to his Ghost briefly then back to him. "Uh, thanks?"

"I'm aware we discussed this on your arrival," his voice changed, getting lower with an edge of something else, "I want to see what else you can do, Hunter. I'm assigning you a new mission."

"Sure, but... shouldn't Cayde be doing this?"

"Cayde is..." he paused, as though choosing his words carefully, and Vraksis got the impression he was always deliberate, "preoccupied. I'll send the details to your Ghost. Good luck."

With that, Zavala turned and as soon as it was clear, Vraksis slumped back into the bunk with a sigh.

"He's intimidating for such a small Titan."

"Don't let him hear you say that." His Ghost shifted, but he couldn't tell if it was irritation or amusement. Her tone certainly didn't give anything away. "Besides, he's taller than you."

Vraksis grinned. "That ain't hard."

She hummed. "You should gear up, before he comes back."

"Ah, fine."

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bunk, grabbing the knife from under his pillow. It was the same knife he had used to kill the Captain - and he could've sworn it still had an ether smell to it - but the face burned into his memory put him on edge, and besides, he'd be damned if he was caught off guard, again. Even if it did make his pillow smell like Fallen.

He could feel his Ghost staring at him so he slipped the knife into its holster and stood up with a stretch.

"Set a waypoint to the gunsmith, Dreg."

"That is not my name."

"Vandal, then?"

His Ghost scowled - in the best way her limited facial features could manage - before disappearing, without setting a waypoint.

"Aw, c'mon,"

'Dreg' didn't answer and Vraksis smiled to himself as he set off in the general direction of the Tower's hub.

 

It was a short flight into the Cosmodrome, but Blue-5 almost wanted it to be over quicker; as nice as it was to settle back into the saddle, as it were, he was still not entirely comfortable in it and he couldn't shake the sense of unease as his boots touched down on the icy ground.

He breathed in the familiar air, his sensors picking up on the sharp chill of it, before pulling on his helmet. It always brought him back to the first time he came here looking for a warp drive as a fresh rez. Although his mind couldn't comprehend the strangeness of his situation at the time, his instincts knew exactly what to do.

As he unslung his rifle, he remembered how familiar it had felt, and how easily he slipped into the Guardian role. He wasn't sure if that was the Light, or the residual knowledge of his former life, but he was glad for it all the same; when he'd encountered the Fallen, he somehow knew exactly what to do and without that, he doubted he would've gotten as far.

Blue had come back many times since then and knew this area well but today, with the overcast sky and strangely still air, he felt something was off.

"Mark the first beacon, Ghost." He shifted, surveying the landscape.

The Ghost icon flickered in his HUD. "Is something wrong?"

"Just..." he paused, and shook his head. "Rusty, I guess."

"That sounds like an Exo joke."

Despite himself, Blue let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah. It kinda does."

 

Ghost tried to ease the tension with lighthearted comments between patrols, but Blue was sure the little machine also felt the tension slowly building in the background. Something was wrong, though neither voiced it.

 

"Last one," Ghost's icon informed him, "and it's a recon one."

Blue hummed in acknowledgement, "Where to?"

He followed the waypoint, clambering over a steep rock face with some difficulty - the ice that clung to the rough surface making it hard to get a good grip - and pulling himself up. He barely got his chin up over the lip when a fiery slug of a chillingly familiar gun type hurtled past his ear, rattling the delicate sensors, and he jerked to the side instinctively with a wince.

"Cabal!" his Ghost's voice cut through the alien war cries as more slugs came his way.

Blue let his shields take a few hits as he used his jump boost to clear the rest of the climb and into the cover of an old rusted truck with a curse.

"What in the Traveller's name are Cabal doing here?" he growled, reaching back to grab his rifle.

"Zavala was right," his Ghost appeared beside him, peeking through what used to be a window but was now warped and rusted, with no trace of glass. "The armour though... It's different."

"Careful." Blue pulled it back protectively and went to check his ammo. "I need you."

"Right," the machine whirred, and Blue knew it was nerves, "Two Legionaries, a Phalanx and a Centurion."

The Titan gave a nod as a grenade pierced into the ground beside him --

"Grenade!"

\-- and he barely moved out of the way before it exploded, singeing the end of his mark. Now he was in the open, the Cabal took advantage, unleashing more his way. Most flew past him or slammed into his thick armour plates, making him stagger, but his thoughts were focused on something else.

"Ghost?!"

"I'm okay!" the ghost symbol flickered in his HUD and Blue felt relief flood his system, though it was short-lived.

Blue ducked under a slug aimed straight for his visor and growled, throwing a grenade back. The other Cabal flinched but Phalanx darted in the way, taking the brunt of the damage with its shield - which now glowed with the purple void fire - and it roared in a mixture of anger and pain as the energy creeped around to its arm. He took the opportunity of the lull in fire to spray his own rifle as he ran towards them, dodging around the stunned Phalanx and barrelling into one of the Legionaries with his knee connecting with its helmet with a satisfying crunch, and it fell back with a scream.

The Titan pulled the barrel of his rifle around into the chest of the second and fired; the bullets pierced through its armour and it gurgled as they ripped through it. The Centurion grabbed the back of Blue's neck and yanked him away but it was too late as the second Legionary slumped back. It roared in rage behind him and threw him aside. Blue slammed straight back into a railing, denting it, and gasped as it winded him. Through unfocused vision, he saw the Phalanx recover and whirl around to face him as the Centurion used its jetpack - did they have those before? - to lift itself in the air and it heaved its massive rifle up with it.

"Let me heal you!" Ghost said through the comms.

"Stay there." Blue wheezed as he struggled to his feet. "I'm fine."

Suddenly he understood what the Centurion was doing as massive grenades hurtled down towards him. Clenching his jaw, he straightened and called on the void again. He felt the comforting coolness creep into his bones and pool in his palms; he pushed it out and it formed a hollow shield, a half circle of void energy a few meters around him. The grenades slammed into it harmlessly as the energy effortlessly absorbed the impact.

Void energy seeped into his rifle, combining with its bullets and he allowed himself a moment to breathe before peeking out and firing at the Centurion. With the added damage of the Void, the bullets broke through its shield and it fell back down to the ground, stunned; he didn't let up though and the Centurion collapsed in its own blood that pooled beneath its boots.

Blue then turned his attention to the Phalanx that was advancing but his rifle just clicked when he pulled the trigger. It let out another war cry in triumph and picked up its pace. Blue threw his rifle on his back and grabbed the Traveller's Chosen before charging right back. He sidestepped as the shield lunged forward, no doubt intending to send the Guardian flying back, and pressed the sidearm into the side of the alien's head. He fired. Its helmet collapsed and the carefully maintained atmosphere inside screamed out along with whatever the black fluid was that the Cabal always used in their armour and vehicles. It fell.

"Guess the gunsmith was right," he mumbled, glancing down at the sidearm. 

"Blue," Ghost appeared beside him, its optic focused towards the city. 

The Exo followed his companion's gaze and saw more Cabal ships making their way over the Cosmodrome wall; an entire fleet of them with a much bigger ship leading the charge.

"We have to warn the Vanguard," Blue immediately set off in a run to reach the trasmat zone, his companion following, its whirring getting louder with its own nerves. "Ghost! Try to reach them through the comms!"

A pause. "I can't... No one's answering!"

Blue pushed down the panic and picked up the pace. The city would not fall. It couldn't.

 

Vraksis sucked in a breath, lining up the sight on a Fallen sniper that had nestled itself on top of a rocky outcrop.

Bang!

Its head exploded in gore and it slumped, its own rifle slipping from its claws and clattering forward, off the outcrop and into the vegetation below.

Vraksis pulled back from his sniper scope and grinned. "D'you think that ever gets old?"

"We're not that far out now." his Ghost informed him. "Looks like the whole EDZ is crawling with Fallen now, though."

"Then staying in one spot isn't a good idea." the Hunter pushed himself up and slung his rifle back over his shoulder, using his other hand to readjust his cloak's hood to the two small horns he had. He didn't wear a helmet, didn't need to and besides, he preferred the freedom.

They carefully picked their way through the trees, keeping an eye out for any scope glares or rustling of vegetation. Vraksis was especially cautious of the branches above too and kept one hand resting on the hilt of his knife, just in case. After a while, they reached the edge of a small cliff and stopped.

Rather than the Fallen scavenging teams they had been expecting, they saw a massive Cabal base, with red detailing - though it wasn't intricate and was as abrasive as the aliens who designed it - with troops patrolling and setting up equipment.

"Was this always here?" Vraksis mumbled so not to alert a nearby group of guards.

"No," his Ghost whispered. "Or I don't think so... This went up quickly."

Vraksis hummed. "Okay. We should-"

He was cut off by... what was happening? His Ghost materialised but she looked... sick. Can Ghosts do that? 

"Guardian," her voice was strained, like she was in pain, "the Light. Something-"

She suddenly stopped talking, her optic going dark, and she fell like deadweight. He reached out to catch her but something wasn't right and she grazed past his fingers, falling into the undergrowth. He went to pick her up, suppressing his rising panic, but suddenly felt dizzy and paused, squeezing his optics shut. 

Then something - his Light, he realised - ripped its way out of him; the power that was intertwined with his being tore through it all to escape and he wanted to cry out with the intense pain but his vocal chords didn't cooperate. The Light floated in front of him in the vague shape of a humanoid for a moment, before it dissipated into the cool air. Vraksis staggered, feeling weak all of a sudden, and collapsed beside his little hummingbird.


End file.
